


UnderContract

by MereingDragon69



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: .... maybe, ....certainly if you squint hard enough, Adult!Frisk, Amnesia!Frisk, F/F, F/M, Female Frisk, Frans - Freeform, Gen, Goat Mom Is Best Mom, Lots of murdered Frisk, Magic!Frisk, Original au, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pacifist Frisk, Protective Sans, Rating May Change, Sans Needs A Hug, Sans Remembers Resets, non-romantic soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MereingDragon69/pseuds/MereingDragon69
Summary: The War of Monsters and Humans was not as simple as legends portray. Certainly, humans feared for their SOULS, and they attacked first. But history likes to leave out key facts, things best left forgotten. Like how humans and monsters had lived side by side practicing magic. Or how it was not a time of perfect peace, but a tense chessboard between differing factions.Cosmic power would mark a human and a monster with a Mark of their mirrored SOUL, a Contract that strengthened to bodies into one Heart. It should have been cherished and beloved by all. Instead, such power was coveted until babes were stolen from cribs and unwilling armies raised in the name of cruel tyrants.These Contracted Pairs rebelled, ultimately winning the war. But, it was decided that until humanity could stop their blood thirsty ways, Monsterkind and Magic would be sealed away deep Underground. Eventually humans thought that monsters were legends and magic was lost. All but to one family, descendants of the one DETERMINED SOUL. They maintained the barrier, protecting those thousands of years after the War. Frisk is the only one left capable of deciding the fate of the hidden world. Free them all, or leave them to perish?





	UnderContract

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of my original AU, titled UnderContract. I mentioned this in my one shot Given Up, and this goes along the ideas of Option 1. This fic will be written for my own pleasure, please don't ask for me to add or change things based on what you want to read. Constructive criticism is more than welcome, all flames will be fuel for angsty one shots. I will try to elaborate on this world without throwing all the details at you, though this chapter might not be the best example. Other chapters will be a little longer, about 7500 to 10000 words on average. I will add more tags in the future, but they will contain spoilers for my plot.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Undertale, just the idea for this AU. In no way or form do I make money off of this. Wish I did, though not gunna ask for anything.

Stagnant air filled the small room, making the atmosphere stifling as people kept crowding around the primly made bed. Dust swirled with every precise movement, only visible in the few beams of sunlight that managed to shine through the hastily drawn blinds. Creaky floorboards sounded like a horrible ode to the aged house. Candle light flickered in the hall, where more darkly dressed visitors shuffled along.

Frisk, for the first time in her life hated the once magical place, dead as the grandmother that was being mourned right next to her. It wasn’t like she wanted to feel such horrible things for the woman, but she thought that she would have more time with her. That she would have space to grieve without strangers insisting to visit and give condolences.

The people of the small town, practically a village really, were closely knit, and everybody knew what had happened. Gossip took no more than an hour to make its rounds before the entire town had heard at least four iterations of one story. It only made sense that everybody would flock to her house when word had spread that the town witch had died.

As far back as her town could remember, the Haelan family had been known for having a connection to the wilds and the magic long forgotten by all others. Grandmother told stories to the young children, gave sage advice to the adults, and healed all the sick that came through her door. Old medicine she told the townsfolk, magic she would tell Frisk.

Even those at the Grand Cairn had requested for grandmother’s great healing ability. The castle was visible in the distance, housing some of the greatest innovations of mankind despite the old architecture. Her parents lived within the stone walls and had wanted Frisk to get some experience somewhere more ‘rustic’ before she was forced to be a ‘proper’ adult.

And every summer since she was a young child she came here after the flowers had gone into bloom and school had ended. Frisk had instantly loved working in the dirt and learning the secrets of the natural and magical worlds. Her father had been the one to insist that Frisk get this time with her only other family, and mother had been just understanding enough to let it happen.

Everyone in town had loved her grandmother. She supposed it was only fair, after all the summers spent here. Soon everyone stopped arriving, the coroner leaving with the body for funeral preparations. Her father was making preparations over phone before he came here in person. But until then, Frisk was alone in the dead house where there were no more prying eyes.

With light feet, she made her way to the basement. It wasn’t the dank horror setting that many movies and books made it out to be. It was filled with the bitter-sweet scent of drying herbs and flowers, lit by soft pixie lights that Frisk had insisted on when she had been younger.  There was a comfy bean bag in the corner, next to a rocking chair where grandmother had told Frisk all the secrets of their family. The ones father had been reluctant to tell with prying eyes and ears about.

It was still so full of happy memories and her grandmother’s presence that Frisk had to bite back a sob. Tears still rolled down her checks, and she was forced to wipe them away with one of her sleeves. She was one of two left, last of her bloodline and last one with the ability to continue her family legacy. She couldn’t stand here crying.

With practiced ease, Frisk pushed the bean bag out of the way and traced invisible runes on the wall until there was a soft click. A large rectangle had come loose from the plaster covered brick, just big enough for an adult to stoop through. The passage beyond was dark, filled with a heavy power that most humans could no longer sense. Frisk took a calming breath and put a steadying hand along the smooth stone wall before descending down.

Behind her, she heard the click of the wall settling back into place. Focusing, Frisk felt for the energy her grandmother had called magic and gently prodded it to her hand. “ **Light**.”

A soft glow covered her free hand, illuminating the stairs and stopping Frisk from stumbling to a premature death. Words, especially those spoken with true intent and laced with magic, had unimaginable power. Grandmother had begun teaching her at a young age, mostly focusing on healing and simple tricks to manifest the SOUL.

Frisk had been told she was a natural, sensitive to the flow of magic and SOUL in all living beings, more so than most. She wasn’t sure how true that statement was, but she was willing to believe her grandmother if only because Frisk could feel things the older woman couldn’t begin to fathom. And father never really practiced any more after marrying mother, just using healing magic here and there when necessary.

At the bottom of the stairs was another door, old and covered in grime after the unknown centuries since it had been crafted. Cleaning never stuck very well, and using any complicated music might disturb the delicate sigil work that contained the pulsing power. There was no handle or lock, but a carved handprint surrounded by ancient runes. Using her magic infused hand, Frisk pressed into the indent and willed the magic to recognize her.

It rumbled and slowly slid into the wall at her left, until it was out of sight and the room beyond was revealed. Shelves lined every inch of the circular room, reaching as high as the ceiling and overflowing with aged books. Some were newer than others, some more ancient that the building above her. In her studies she had read a few of her ancestors’ recounts, though it would take far too long to read them all. A desk was cramped into one corner, wax solidified in small puddles along the wood amidst old research notes. They were not what she was here for though.

In the center was a long pedestal, short and chipped, reaching only to her waist. Perched upon it was an unassuming jar that held a faintly glowing SOUL, human based on its upright orientation, but bleached of all color, even translucent. Black and white runes pulsed around it, filling the air with an energy that made the hair on the back of her neck raise.

“Good morning ancestor Drayden.” Frisk gently put a hand to the glass, though the SOUL refused to act, like usual. “I don’t know if you can feel it, but grandmother passed last night in her sleep.”

Slowly, feeling the exhaustion settling deep within, Frisk sank down to her knees. “I’m all alone now, father can’t just drop everything and come here. I don’t know if I can keep the legacy going either. Do the monsters deserve to be locked away? I’ve never met one, but neither did grandmother or father. What right do I have to decide their fate?”

Silence surrounded her, and slowly she reached out for the oldest tome in the entire room, maybe the most read of them all. It detailed the events of thousands of years ago, when monsters and humans lived side by side and wielded magic. Before war raged and monsters and magic itself was sealed away from human machinations.

Drayden had hinted at some sort of magical ability that had allowed him and his allies to win the war, though the death toll had been unavoidable. Once it had been a sacred bonding of a human’s and monster’s SOUL in an irrefutable Contract. Those of a destined contract would bear identical marks, existing from birth, unfilled until both willingly acknowledged the bond, and colored inversely in the colors of their SOULS. After those destined to bond had consented to the Contract and all it entailed, it was possible for other monsters to create a less intense bond with the human. They were rare, signifying a time of change and a shift in power. The last one had been recorded over two centuries ago, the one before that being Drayden, over two thousand years ago.

And now there was Frisk.

Absentmindedly, she rubbed at the mark centered perfectly over her sternum. It was the red of her SOUL and the cyan of her partner’s. It was smaller than her palm, delicate curves and sharp lines. Did they keep it self-consciously hidden too? Were they waiting for her, down in the Underground where her family had been keeping them prisoner all these years? Could they forgive her? Would they even want a human?

And she was expected to be the next jailer, have a kid or two that could keep the magic going after she had died. It seemed so wrong, for her and whatever family she might have. Even more so for the monsters that she didn’t even know.

Maybe, maybe if she met a few, she would know if this was okay. Okay to keep them locked away. Or maybe let them see the sun and stars again. Just a chat, or two. And if they were down there somewhere, her destined could met her. And she wouldn’t need to even pass the barrier, just sit on the other side and wait.

Frisk might make friends for once. Not that she didn’t have any, but, well, she wasn’t very close with many of them. With grandmother gone, no one would question it if Frisk disappeared for a few days… or a few weeks if she needed more time. Father said he would give her the space she needed, reminding her through whispers over the phone of the ultimatum she had.

Keep up the barrier, maintain the family legacy. Or, if the bond of her SOUL was too powerful, go find her Contracted Pair and live out her life with the monsters. If she survived the ordeal.

But, Frisk didn’t think there was only just the two possibilities. Her father had only given her the black and white of the situation, and Frisk wanted to believe that there was an intermediate shade of grey she could choose. There had to be.

With a mind determined to see the truth of the situation, Frisk put the journal away and gently picked up her own. It was barely filled, important events in her life and what she had learned about her magic and SOUL. Nothing else really, only a few dozen pages out of hundreds. This would be a good time to change that, describe her experience with a monster.

Nibbling at her bottom lip, Frisk got up and grabbed a book on rune and sigil translations, just in case. Never hurt. Maybe monsters didn’t speak English, it had been recorded that some had species specific languages back in the beginning.

Looking back on the lone SOUL and the books in the secret study, Frisk bid farewell.

That night, she packed everything she would need to go camping. She wrote out a note, telling any who came to investigate that she needed to figure herself out. Not to worry. Her father would be by shortly to get affairs in order. She just needed space. And time. And for him she had left her decision to give the monsters a chance. It was only fair.

She carefully unplugged everything, locking up the important valuables behind the hidden door in the basement. Just in case. All the plants went outside and all the food that would go bad was binned or packed for later. Door locked and spare keys hidden, Frisk left before the first light of dawn touched over the town.

Her destination was not one that people would approve, legends and myths of monsters stealing away children still too fresh. No, it was best if none knew she was going to be staying on Mount Ebott for the next while. It was truthfully the closest entrance into the Underground, though not the only one.

It took Frisk the better part of the morning to even get to the base of the mountain, the sun raising high on the field of yellow coreopsis that separated her town from Mount Ebott. The sun was already sinking towards the opposite horizon by the time she made it to the summit. She collapsed in a tired heap, looking on at the twilight that unfolded before her.

Guilt made Frisk fiddle with the sleeves of her jacket, she was breaking more than just taboo by being up here. Thousands of years had gone into maintaining the balance and peace that had been brought about by her family. What if something happened while she was up here? Her magic affinity was purely support and measly parlor tricks. Compared to the devastating attack spells detailed in some journals, Frisk knew nothing that could damage.

No. She came here for a reason, and darn it, she was going to see it through. Besides, violence was not always an answer.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Frisk continued around a nearly overgrown path to the entrance of a shallow cave. Vines stretched all along the floor and walls, spreading along a large perfectly circular opening in the rock. Symbols of magic were inscribed along the edges of the hole, the power inscribed in them tingling along her flesh. It was identical to the secret study, the pulsing black and white of sealing and separation.

This was the entrance that would lead her to the Underground. The magic attempting to escape from the barrier was nearly suffocating. If she ever attempted to get past that barrier, she had no clue what it would do to her. Probably kill her at the worst, she mused.

She leaned closer, setting her camping supplies to the side. The hole looked incredibly deep, so much so that it would be impossible to hold a conversation with someone at the bottom. A fatal fall to be sure. Frisk leaned down further, there was something yellow at the bottom, she could just barely make it out. With care she got as close to the edge as she could without falling in, peering down into the darkness.

Maybe if she used her binoculars she could make out what it was. As she reached for her bag, Frisk felt the rock beneath her shift and give, crumbling into dust beneath her. Fingers griped at her bag and the vines, but the plants were fragile in the dim light and the lip of the backpack tore open as she tumbled backwards into the abyss.

She didn’t even have the ability to scream, the feeling of the fall tearing all of the breath from her lungs. And then the pressure of the magic closed in around her and she actually couldn’t breathe. It stung her eyes, burning and sparking to the point of pain. Her hair was whipping around her face wildly. For a brief moment, Frisk wondered if this was how she was going to die.

It was no wonder she didn’t see the jagged point of rock the smashed into the back of her head. The force flipped her around in the air, and just beneath her, she could make out that the yellow was a tenderly cared for bed of flowers. She blinked past the tears and finally succumbed to the darkness creeping along the edge of her vision.

 

Flowey POV

 

Flowey watched as the human hit the flower bed with enough force to make her bounce back up into the air. For a moment while she was suspended, he noticed that her lightly tanned skin turned sickly pale, how dark earth colored hair turned to a shade of auburn, or how dull hazel eyes turned the color of fresh blood. As the girl hit the ground once more, her blood soaking into the trampled petals, he watched as she faded back to her original form.

The only addition he noticed, was a dark green and scarlet mark fill in on her right hand. Just perfectly so, over the back of her hand, just over where the palm was. A perfect circulate of crimson roses and thorny acid colored vines all around a green star wreathed in a red flame.

_Her_ mark. His Chara’s Mark. His Mark. On this girl that looked so much like her it hurt. Hurt like he had when he had died from his wounds. When she had been consumed by their mistakes.

And then he realized that it wasn’t emotional pain he was feeling, put a horrible ripping sensation at his magic. He could only recoil as brilliant golden, pure, light of the SAVE, LOAD, and RESET tore itself from his being and settled over the girl’s body.

His breath was stolen at the sight of the glowing, pulsing red SOUL as it lifted from her chest to meet the shifting four-pointed star. The star itself floated above the heart shaped SOUL before it exploded into great ribbons that wrapped around SOUL and body alike. Both shimmered, like a goddess from the old stories, divine and so utterly beautiful that he couldn’t look away.

Within a blink, the magnificent show of ancient magic was gone. Gone like Flowey’s ability to feel the godly ability within this horrible shell. Now in the girl, in Chara. Her determination must be so much more than his own, for the magic to choose her over him. He had to be sure though.

Using his roots, and the limited magic he had available, Flowey popped up next to the unconscious girl. Because despite the blood pooled and splattered around her, there was no physical injury to her person. He reached out a leaf and felt a pulse flutter. And just beneath the skin he could feel the formidable might of her magic.

It wasn’t Chara’s, much too soft and inviting. There was no recognition in this girl’s magic to his and it bubbled something vicious inside of him. How dare she look like his sister, his Contract, his perfect friend and partner, and not be her? And she took his power over the timeline, this scrawny girl took everything!

He formed an encounter with her, already forming seed bullets to attack. They shot out, only to be repelled by a red bubble that expanded out of her SOUL to cover the girl’s body. Flowey gaped. Rage made his face twist, ready to fire another attack, only to pause as her magic flared.

‘Help,’

‘I’m in trouble,’

‘Somebody please save me!’

It was a unique form of communication that his parents had taught him, so long ago when he was still the prince. A relic language from before the great War of Monster and Humans. How could a girl from the Surface unconsciously call for aid?

And he saw it, etched into her clothes. More specifically her jacket. It reached to her thighs, a fine violet fabric that sturdily built. A thick blue line bordered the edges of the piece, silver runes and symbols etched with care into the rim. A high collar hid most of her face, draping just past the shoulders into a shawl. Tight black sleeves stretched over the girl’s arms. Brass buttons held the clothing tight over the girl’s frame, some sort of crest carved into the metal. All these designs glowed in the language of magic, lighting up the entire cloth 

Magic, stored for such a moment of defense, faltered as it ran out and the small bubble shattered. The runes, so lovingly stitched, faded. Now, she was defenseless. He lifted a leaf and prepared another barrage of bullets, just enough to take out her pathetic 20 health points.

Violent flames exploded around Flowey, and he screamed as his mortal shell was harmed. He was just able to dig back into the earth, hidden away from the angry Boss Monster above. It would take time to heal, but he could wait. He’d spent centuries waiting. Let the woman have the girl.

It would change nothing, of that he would be certain.

 

Toriel POV

 

Toriel fretted over the young girl in front of her, though young woman might be more appropriate. All the humans that had fallen before had been much younger, truly children in mind and body. But this one looked to be on the cusp of adulthood. With care, she ran a paw over the girl, feeling for breaks or the wound that had caused such horrible bleeding.

The blood was everywhere. Pooling beneath the body, splattered about as if from some great impact. It was grisly.

There were supplies that looked to have fallen down haphazardly around the girl. Likely things with her before her accident. Some extra clothes, even some nonperishable human foods. A book lay on its side, soaking up some of the blood it was laying in. Another was partially open and singed from her earlier attack. She moved them out of the way to collect later.

Something inside of her broke when she turned back and saw the girl up close. She looked just like her precious baby girl all those years ago. But Toriel’s breath caught in her throat when she saw the Mark upon the child’s hand. It shouldn’t have been possible. Maybe just a coincidence and only looked similar.

“You silly, old woman, you’re projecting. Your babies are long gone.” She continued on after a moment of grief, desperately checking again for the source of the girl’s wounds.

There was nothing visible though. No discoloring, broken bones, or open cuts. It made no sense, but Toriel was willing to accept this miracle for what it was. She scooped up the girl and set about to her home. Her eyes trailed over all the monsters, keeping an eye out for that unusual flower that had the audacity to attack an unconscious child!

All the small monsters scattered, already aware of Toriel’s notorious maternal temper. Not that she would ever argue with such behavior, _all_ humans were off limits.

It baffled Toriel slightly how small even an almost-adult human was compared to herself, so small and delicate. The human would only come up to her chest if she could stand on her own. On par with the monsters outside of the Ruins, about average, if she guessed.

She looked up and realized she had already rushed home, the purple stone around her having passed by in a monotone blur. The soft glow of the fire and the wall scones were inviting, and Toriel breathed out before heading to the bathroom, already deciding to keep the girl in her own room for now. Dust and denial had the guest room uncleaned from the last visitor. No good for getting this girl cleaned and changed. All of her clothes were soaked through with blood.

Nothing she had would fit the girl properly, either much too large or comically small. For now, she would worry about getting the poor thing cleaned up. Toriel set the poor child down, putting on the tap for the tub. Warm water cascaded down and Toriel stated to undress the human.

The only thing that looked out of place was what appeared to be small veins and arteries over her heart. They were indistinct, blurry with splotches of purple seeping between the lines. Likely just a bad bruise, much too translucent and faded to be anything but. It was the only wound the human seemed to have, her entire body in near perfect condition.

Poor thing was dwarfed in the tub, sliding around the bottom as the water lapped at her skin. Humans were not as different from them as many monsters were led to believe, and Toriel smiled sadly as she dragged a wet cloth over dirty skin. Soon the water stopped running red with blood, slowly going pink before going clear.

If the human had been any younger, Toriel could have swaddled the sweet thing in one of the large towels. Unfortunately, she was just a little too big for that, as adorable as it would have been. So, she carefully placed the human girl on the bath mat and started drying her. Wouldn’t do at all to get the sheets wet.

Toriel didn’t know what humans valued when it came to looks, but she thought this one might be considered beautiful. Her skin was soft, and Toriel remembered what it once meant to be sun-kissed. The girl had delicate bone structure, face smooth with just a hint of freckles. There was muscle under the thin frame, small curves to the girl’s womanlier features.

With a comb, Toriel started work on the tangles in the child’s hair. If she wasn’t careful, she might need to beat off the more curious monsters from this girl. The younger generation of monsters lacked the distrust that some of the older generations still maintained.

Though that disgusting swine of a man she had once called husband certainly didn’t help matters for relations at all!

There was a whine, and Toriel grimaced as she realized she had been tugging a little too harshly on some of the tangles. Despite the pain, the child slept on. Properly groomed and dried, all she needed now was to put some clothes on the human and put her in bed. Maybe get some pie ready for when the girl finally woke up.

She would clean the bloody clothes later, when she went back for some of the girl’s things. For now, the child would need to settle for some of Toriel’s old robes. Toriel scooped the girl up and went to her personal bedroom, laying the girl over the blankets as she searched her closet for something suitable.

All that she had was an old night shirt, thin and faded, maybe even a little too threadbare to be honest, and some shorts that had been too big for Chara.

Misery made Toriel shake, a paw to her chest. She missed her babies so much. It had been centuries but they were hers and it hadn’t been fair. But death would have happened, eventually and it was the past. There was no power in this world that could let her go back in time and make everything better.

With an experience that had rusted after years of disuse, the Boss Monster managed to get the clothes slipped onto the girl. And was she right, the girl was swimming in the oversized clothes. Toriel tucked the human into bed and left her room. The guest room needed to be cleaned before the child woke up.

It must have been hours by the time Toriel finished cleaning, and still yet the girl slept. She worried a lip, deciding that if she wasn’t awake by the time Toriel got back, she would try to check further for signs of a head injury. For now, she would gather the human’s things.

Most monsters knew to stay away from Chara’s grave, some occasionally stopping by to leave small tributes. That always made Toriel smile, such compassion for a creature most had never known.

As she made her way down the purple halls, a few of the monsters approached Toriel. Three Froggits swayed meekly, little webbed hands fidgeting as they looked up at her. “Miss Toriel, some Loox said they spotted you running around with a bloody human earlier. Is it true?”

Now Toriel was hesitant to confirm, but in the long run, it would be better to tell them the truth. And word never got out very quickly, usually weeks before any stock was put into spider gossip from the Ruins. No one got in or out without her knowing, not when the only known exit cut straight through her house.

Asgore and his Royal Guard would be fools if they thought for even a moment if they could break down her doors to get at the human. That mistake had been only tried once, none ever tried again after the fire she had rained down upon them.

The small group of Froggit meekly cowered away from her glowering face and Toriel forced herself to calm down. “Yes, this human is not nearly as young as the others before it. As of now, she is under my protection. Please spread this around.”

They all nodded and scattered rapidly into some of the small side rooms. It did not ease some of the tension in Toriel’s shoulders though as she crossed the spike bridge. Despite her presence being a respected one, it did not always stop overzealous activities from happening within these walls.

She hoped that unknown flower monster was long gone. Strangers were rare enough, a vicious one even more so.

No one was at the grave, all traces of magic already starting to dissipate. A lingering metallic scent made Toriel look closely at the darkened earth. Any leftover blood had long dried on the flowers and surrounding stone. Far too much without an obvious wound to have come from, she thought. Some ash lingered along the flower bed, and Toriel had a horrible idea.

She couldn’t recall if the ash had been there before she had set off her fire balls at the flower. Had the human’s marked monster died protecting her? It was possible that the blood wouldn’t turn to ash if it had been spilt before the monster had died. There was no way the Marked monster would just have left its human for dead.

Oh how horrible! If the girl’s Contracted Pair died protecting her from the flower monster, it was unfathomable. No wonder the dear was unconscious still, the strain that would put on her SOUL would be horendous. Toriel was not the most knowledgeable about this sort of thing, but between Asgore’s mark and the Contract between Asriel and Chara, she felt she probably had better experience than any other monster.

With a new perspective on the situation, Toriel quickly gathered the scattered clothes and the two books. The burned one was a book on written magic, though the condition was no longer great. The other was a personal journal, though the first dozen pages were soaked through with dried blood that made everything impossible to read. There was a name written on the inner cover, only the first name legible.

Frisk.

What an interesting name, maybe the girl’s? Toriel would make sure to ask, gently. Surely the poor thing would be in a state when she woke. And Toriel wasn’t even at the house!

With everything bundled together in her arms, Toriel rushed back, nearly as frantic as she had been a few hours before. Nothing seemed amiss at the house, all the doors still closed and nobody was about. Peaking into the occupied room, Toriel saw the girl was still asleep.

Thank goodness.

With a relieved sigh, Toriel went to the guest room and set aside the human’s things. When she turned back to the hall, she gave a startled yelp. Rubbing agitatedly at her eyes was the human!

“I’m sorry.” Such a soft voice, easy to miss. “But where am I, and who are you miss goat thing?”

She was much calmer than Toriel thought she would be, considering everything. “My name is Toriel, I am the Guardian of the Ruins. Are you alright, Frisk?”

The human looked around her, confusion making her scrunch her face. “Is that my name? I don’t remember much. Just being scared because I’d fallen down a hole.”

Oh, oh dear. This wasn’t good. Not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted: June 22, 2018
> 
> Let me know what you think. I'm not sure if I want to go with this option yet or if I want to go down a path of unadulterated SIN. I'll be decided by the 7th of July 2018, your feedback would be great. There are two options listed that I will list here temporarily for you to decide between. 
> 
> It's an AU that I want to call UnderContract, the idea that a human and monster will be born with an identical mark somewhere on their body that signifies that the universe has formed a Contracted Pair between the two. When both monster and human agree to bond SOULS (not romantic soul mate stuff, more platonic than anything), they share magic between each other and attain higher forms. Non-marked can still form contracts, but the bond won't be as close or as powerful. I really started going into the world building of this AU and have an entire history planned out along with addressing important plot holes that the game didn't go into. It's going to be written in POV Third Person only. Frisk will suffer amnesia, so most of my AU specifics will be spoon fed to you after the first chapter gives you a crash course.
> 
> So:
> 
> Option 1 is another ambiguous relationship between an eighteenish Frisk and Sans, little to no sexual content until MAYBE very late into the story (not guaranteed to be between the two). Themes might be a little darker at times than option 2 and will push the story along more quickly than option 2. I also consider this to be my Core World for this AU, though not strictly necessary for option 2.
> 
> Option 2 is much more fluffy, and probably very smut heavy. This would be an ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) with some BDSM with focuses on Bondage & Discipline and Dominance & Submission. I would work with an Alpha!Sans and Omega!Frisk, who are inversely Sub!Sans and Dom!Frisk. It would also focus more on interpersonal character connections and relationships than option 1. Will have actual plot that is similar to option 1, though not identical.
> 
> Okay, ramble over. If you don't care either way, that's fine. Leave a review with your preference by maybe the first week of July 2018. Or PM me. Whatever works. If you have questions I'll try to get back to you.


End file.
